


Fuzzy

by Nevermore_red



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
Genre: Drunken Marriages, F/M, Inspired by Randy Rogers Band song "Fuzzy", Las Vegas, hangovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-22 23:48:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11977671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nevermore_red/pseuds/Nevermore_red
Summary: Sandor wakes up in Vegas with only fuzzy memories of last night and how he came to have a wedding band on his finger. Oh, and lets not forget a strangers name tattooed on his chest.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was listening to the song Fuzzy by The Randy Rogers Band and I thought it would be fun to see it as a SanSan story. Give the song a listen. It's pretty funny.

A shrill noise had Sandor groaning loudly with his face in a pillow. He blindly reached a hand out, searching for the object causing his disturbance. He knocked over a lamp that was on the nightstand, which was odd becuase he didn't own a lamp, and now that he was actually more awake, he didn't have an alarm clock either. His head felt too damn heavy and far too painful to move it much, though, so he just continued searching with a fumbling hand until he encountered what felt like a clock and pulled it from the wall, letting it drop onto the floor. And then blessed quiet.

He tried to remember where he was, but his extraordinarily hungover mind wasn't cooperating. What he could remember was meeting up with Tormund, Beric, Thoros, and the new kid that had just started working with them at the construction site, Gendry. They had all gotten some hairbrained fucking idea to drive the three hours over to Vegas. Stupid idea, but Sandor didn't have anything better to do. He'd go, have a few drinks, and then catch a cab back to a cheap hotel. But the last thing he remembered was drinking more than a few drinks and eating at a Waffle House. He thought maybe Gendry had gotten into a fight there. That maybe they'd gotten kicked out. He wasn't sure, though. It was all a little fuzzy. With a great amount of effort, Sandor rolled over and promptly realized he was naked. With one eye open, he looked around and found himself in a hotel room. A damn nice one, too.

"What the fuck?" he grunted, sitting up and grabbing his pounding head. The room was far nicer than anything he'd ever spent the night in, complete with a sitting area and a damned hot tub sitting in front of the balcony doors. There was several empty beer bottles and three empty champagne bottles sitting along the edge of it. The coffee table was strewn with more beer bottles and a tequila bottle with nothing but the worm left in it.

"Looks like I had a damn good time last night." he scrubbed a hand over his face and then froze when he felt something scrape his cheek. Slowly pulling his hand away from his face, he stared at the black ring that encircled his third finger on the left hand. His stomach revolted at that exact moment and he stumbled out of bed and crashed through the bathroom door, barely making it to the toilet before everything came up.

Once he was finished, Sandor got up and rinsed his mouth out in the sink, trying like hell to remember what had happened. It was all so...fuck his head hurt. And his left pec burnt. Standing up straight and looking in the mirror, he could only shake his head.

"You dumb motherfucker." he cursed himself, taking in the fresh tattoo that adorned his left pec. Bold black gothic letters that spelled out a name. Not his, and most definitely a woman's. But for the fucking life of him, he couldn't remember who Sansa was. Was she still in bed? Was she somewhere in this hotel room? Grabbing a towel, he tied it off around his waist and cautiously went back into the hotel room. There was no woman in the bed, although there was a bright purple bra draped over the shade of the standing lamp near the sofa and a tiny scrap of lace that were more than likely panties on the floor by the hot tub.

"Shit." he cursed. "Shit, shit, shit." There was no fucking way. Had he really, _honestly,_ gotten so drunk last night that he'd not only gotten a tattoo of some woman's name on his chest, but he'd actually married the girl? The bouquet of fake flowers that were tossed at the foot of the bed seemed to be mocking him. His cell phone on the nightstand pulled his attention away from the flowers. He grabbed it up and called Tormund.

"Where in the fuck are you?" he snapped as soon as Tormund picked up and was greeted with the ginger bastards laugh.

"How are you feeling this morning, lover boy?"

"Where. Are. You." Sandor bit off each word. "And what in the hell happened last night?"

After some more laughing, Tormund finally gathered himself. "I'm down in the hotel café. Come down and I'll explain everything. Or, what I can remember. And what I can gather from the pictures on my phone. Brienne has more of a recollection, because she's just amazing like that." there was some mumbling from someone else and Tormund laughed.

"You are, you big beautiful woman, you."

"Tormund!" Sandor yelled. "Who the fuck is Brienne?"

"You don't remember? Damn near as tall as you? Blonde hair, beautiful blue eyes." More grumbling from someone else, but Sandor did have a vague memory. He thought maybe he'd arm wrestled the woman, but he couldn't remember her eye color. The only thing he could picture when he thought of blue eyes was a sweet smile and red hair.

"I'm coming down." Sandor finally said, shaking his head. "As soon as I can find my fucking pants."

"Aye, dog. We're all here, waiting for you."

It took him a damn long time to find his pants, and he groaned when he checked his wallet and found it nearly empty. All his cash was gone and he didn't even want to check his bank account. Once he was dressed, though he could never find his underwear, Sandor went back into the bathroom and finger brushed his hair over his scars. It was then he noticed the two used condoms and wrappers in the trash can. At least he'd used protection, whoever the hell he'd been with.

 _Sansa_.

The name sounded pretty. If the looks of the underwear she'd left behind were any indication, she wasn't a hag. Not that any of that meant he wanted to be married. When he thought really hard about the name, about what he could remember about her and last night, all he could bring up were flashes. A tinkling laugh, soft skin, hot breath. He could recall sweet words whispered in his ear and gentle touches along his scars. He could remember water splashing out of the hot tub and his name being yelled in the sexiest voice he'd ever heard. Red hair and blue eyes.

Shaking himself, Sandor shoved his phone and wallet into his pocket and headed downstairs. It took him a little while to find the café and when he did he damn near backed out. Tormund was easy enough to spot, sitting between Thoros and Gendry, Beric on the opposite side of the ginger. A girl with dark hair sat near Gendry and they were talking. Across the table, with their backs to him, was a big blonde woman. He'd thought it was a man at first, but remembered the conversation with Tormund. Beside her was a redheaded woman. So this was Sansa. Time to face the fucking music.

Pulling his shoulders straighter, he made his way towards their table. Thoros saw him first, a stupid fucking smirk on his face. Sandor flipped both him and the other guys off as they all looked up at him.

"Sandor, my man." Tormund greeted loudly.

"Fuck off." he grumbled, moving around the table and finally facing Sansa. She was looking up at him nervously, a flush along her pretty pale skin. Seeing her brought forth another flood of memories and Sandor swallowed hard. She was fucking gorgeous.

"Hi." she said softly. He glanced down and saw the thin silver ring on her left hand. His stomach twisted.

"Hey." he cleared his throat.

"We should talk." she stood up, her chair scraping the floor.

"Yeah." he nodded. "Sure."

He followed her outside to the poolside, which was largely empty at this hour on a Sunday. Most people were still sleeping off their hangovers or already checking out to head home.

"I'm Sansa, by the way." she said sweetly once she sat down at a little bistro table.

"Figured you were." he winced a little when his shirt rubbed against his chest as he sat down. "Sansa what?"

She looked surprised that he'd asked, and he could tell by the way she fidgeted that she was hesitant to tell him. Which seemed damn silly. He'd have to know eventually, surely.

"Mines Clegane." he stretched his hand out across the table and she smiled a little before taking it. "Sandor Clegane."

"I remember your name." she gave his hand a firm shake, her hand a little on the cold side. Probably from being nervous. "Would you laugh if I said my last name is Clegane now as well?"

Sandor smirked at that, sitting back in his chair. "You aren't one of those new aged feminists that insist on keeping their last name?"

"New aged feminist?" she lifted an elegant brow. "Do you have an issue with feminists, Sandor?"

"Not at all." he ran his tongue over his teeth as he looked at her face. Damn it all, but she was pretty.

"Good." she smiled. "And just so you know, I do consider myself a feminist, although I plan on taking my husbands last name when I do get married. Uh, well, the next time."

Sandor quirked a brow at her. "Right."

"Yes." she cleared her throat, suddenly looking very serious. "Right. Brienne said I should just get on with it. Be direct. No point in dancing around it. Last night was... _insane_. And fun, I think. But we were both drunk. Really, _really_ drunk. It was a stupid idea and our even more stupid friends did nothing to talk us out of it. So now we're married." she blushed a little at that. "It's not like we're the first strangers to ever get married in Vegas. We don't even have to get a divorce. We'll just need an annulment. No big deal."

Sandor sat back in his chair, arms crossed loosely as she continued talking and flushing even more. He was hearing what she was saying, but he was also lost in watching her. How in the seven hells had he managed not only to gain her attention but actually get her to sleep with him. And marry him! The girl had to have been shitcanned.

"But after the wedding we, uh..." she bit her lip and even her ears turned red. She looked so uncomfortable and embarrassed and it was oddly adorable. "Well, we had sex." she whispered it and Sandor snorted. "A lot, I think. Now, I have an IUD so there wont be any surprise baby, and I'm clean but Arya said it was probably a good idea that both of us get tested. You know, just to be sure. Not that I think I have anything. Or that you have anything. It's probably just better to be safe than sorry, you know?"

"Do you always ramble on like that?" he asked with a smirk and she glared at him.

"Yes, actually." she lifted her chin. "But only when I'm nervous or freaking out."

"Which is it now?"

"A bit of both, probably." she shrugged. "How are you so calm?"

"Like you said during your little tirade, a simple annulment is all we need. And, to ease that pretty little head of yours, we used condoms. I'll still do whatever tests you want, though."

"Oh." a tiny smile curled the corner of her lips and she rubbed her fingers along the side of her neck. His eyes followed the motion and he noticed several small bruises on her collarbone. Bruises that he'd put there last night. If only he could actually remember. Damn, but he wished he could remember how she tasted.

"That's good then." she nodded. "We can just pretend this never happened."

Sandor scowled at that. Not that he wanted to be married, and definitely not to some stranger, but he also didn't want to pretend last night never happened. From what he could remember, it was the most fun night he'd had in a long time. And she was likely the single most gorgeous person he'd ever seen. He didn't want to forget that he'd had her.

"Easy for you to say." he rubbed his chest gently. "You don't have my fucking name tattooed on your skin."

"No!" she gasped, one hand covering her mouth as she looked at his hand on his chest. He was pretty sure she was trying to hide a smile. "You didn't?"

"Bloody well did." he groused. "Stings like a bitch."

"I actually remember that." she dropped her hand, outright smiling now. "Your friend, Thoros, wanted to get a tattoo so we found a parlor. While we were waiting, Arya talked you into getting my name."

"Who the fuck is Arya?"

"My sister." she scrunched her nose up and gave him an apologetic look. "Sorry."

"And no one bothered to stop me?" he looked at her pointedly.

"No." she dropped her eyes. "I think I might have actually told you it would be so romantic."

"Bloody hell." he groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. The scrap of the ring caught his notice and he looked at her hand to see her ring. "Any idea where these came from?" he lifted his hand to indicate the ring. She glanced at it and then her own before curling her fingers into a fist.

"Brienne said the wedding chapel sold them." she bit her lip and looked up at him. "I'm pretty sure mines real white gold. They probably cost a lot. We could try and take them back? Get your money back?"

That idea didn't sit well for some fucked up reason.

"Fuck it." he shrugged. "Keep it. It'll remind you to be more careful the next time you come to Vegas."

Sansa cocked her head to the side and studied him closely for a moment. It made him feel uncomfortable. Most people didn't look too closely at his face, his scars. She didn't seem all that phased by them and he had a flash memory of her lips and fingers running along that cheek.

"It could be worse." she finally grinned. "At least you seem pretty amazing."

"I'm not amazing." he refuted instantly.

"You're being so kind about all this. Even last night, when we first met, you were so sweet. And funny. My stomach muscles are sore this morning from laughing so much. Brienne and Arya both said you kept asking me if I was sure last night. You could have forced me, I mean, look at you." she motioned to his body. "You're..." she paused and licked her lips, eyes traveling down his torso and that flush coming back into her cheeks. She shook herself and met his eyes once again.

"You were great." she finally finished.

Sandor, with a firm ego boost from her blatant appreciation of his body, gave her a cocky grin. "From what I can remember, you were pretty fucking great too."

She quickly looked away, biting her lip against a smile.

"So." he brought her attention back to him. "What's the last name, then, Little Bird?"

"Little Bird?" she tilted her head in question.

"You chirp a lot." he shrugged. "Like a pretty little bird."

She laughed lightly at that. "Since I'm a new aged feminist and all and didn't take your last name, it's Stark. Sansa Stark."

The grin he had promptly fell at the name.

"Stark." he repeated. "As in The Stark Firm. As in Eddard fucking Stark?"

"You know my dad?" she squeaked.

"Your _dad_?" he felt his eyes bug out a little.

"Yes." she pulled her shoulders back in pride. "Ned Stark is my father. Why? How do you know him?"

"I used to work for Lanniscorp. Security. Cersei and then Joffrey's personal body guard." he shook his head. "I quit a few years back because those people are twisted, crazy bastards. Me and a friend of mine started BC Construction. Your father helped us get the company up and running."

"So," she shook her head, trying to take it all in. "Wait, you live in San Bernardino?"

"Yeah." he furrowed his brow at her. "Do you?"

"I do now!" she squealed in excitement. "Oh my gosh! What a small world. I just moved back about a year ago. That's crazy."

"Yeah." he said again, but all he could think of was that meant he could see her again. Outside of the annulment business of course.

"Yeah." she settled down a little and smoothed her hair back into it's ponytail. "I guess that'll make things easier to file for the annulment. Us being in the same city."

"There's not going to be some pissed off boyfriend looking to kick my ass once we get back, is there?"

She snorted at that. A distinctly unladylike sound. It made him smile.

"Yeah right." she rolled her eyes. "Even if there was a boyfriend, he'd have to be the freaking Hulk to be able to kick your ass."

"Brienne gave me a run during that arm wrestling match." he reminded her.

"Only because I was distracting you." she said softly with a mischievous smile.

Ah, yes. He remembered that. How she'd been sitting next to him. How her hand was on his thigh, stroking higher and higher. His mind hadn't been on the arm wrestling match at all. It had been thinking how he wanted her to just go ahead and grab his dick, maybe rub him off right there. When she'd squeezed the inside of his thigh, _this_ far from his junk, he'd slammed Brienne's hand down with a rush of adrenaline.

"But, no." she bit that bottom lip again. "There's no boyfriend to worry about. Any one I should be concerned about? I mean, I'm definitely not a fighter, but I'm sure Arya and Brienne would both have my back if needed."

"It's not needed." he scoffed. "Not many women hang around long with a face like this." he motioned to his scars.

"Women are idiots." she shrugged. "So, there's no significant others to worry about. That's...that's good."

"Yeah." he licked his bottom lip, trying to figure out how to go about asking her out when their whole hoard of friends came outside and interrupted them.

"Sans, the cabs waiting." the smaller girl, Arya, informed them. "We gotta get before dad flips his shit that we haven't checked back in."

"Right." Sansa nodded and stood up. Sandor followed. "I have your number in my phone so I'll get things set up with a lawyer for the annulment and call you when I need you to sign, okay?"

"I can help with the lawyer." pride had him saying. He didn't have any money to his name right now, but the company was doing good and it was just another week until pay came in.

"Our family has one on retainer." she gave him a silly smile. "We're odd like that."

"Just call me, then."

"I will." she smiled at him and offered her hand. "It was nice to meet you, Sandor Clegane."

"You too, Little Bird." She hesitated to pull her hand from his and Sandor didn't relinquish his grip. He just needed one more second of touching her soft skin and looking into those amazing blue eyes before he let her go.

"Clegane." Beric said his name. "We need to head back as well."

Sandor ignored him, still looking at Sansa. "After the annulment, let me take you to dinner."

Gods that was a fucked up way to ask a girl out if there ever was one.

"Alright." she beamed. Fucking beamed. "And after dinner, we can go to my cousin Jon's tattoo parlor. He's pretty amazing so I'm sure he can cover my name up with something. I'll pay."

"The fuck if you will." he countered.

"Fine." she laughed. "But I will get you a dang good discount."

"Fair enough." he nodded, still holding her hand.

"I'll call." she finally pulled away from him and Sandor nodded. Once the other girls all said their goodbyes, Tormund came up to him and threw an arm over his shoulders as they both watched them walk away.

"That's one fine ass woman." he said of Brienne.

"One that wants to cut your nuts off." Sandor replied.

"Yeah, but I'd still enjoy her hands on me all the same."

"Fuck off." Sandor tried to shrug his arm off but Tormund squeezed him tighter for a second.

"And you told me you hated gingers." he laughed.

"Just you, you wild bastard." Sandor managed to get his arm off of him and they all headed out to the front lobby while Gendry tried to explain where their car was. Once they finally found it, Sandor got into the front seat of the Suburban and reclined the seat back as Beric drove them back home. They were just outside Barstow when a text came through.

_S.S.: Just so you know, Mr. Clegane, you paid for a wedding photographer last night. At my insistence, of course._

**_S.C.: Fuck. Do you have the pictures?_ **

_Certainly. Its not everyday a girl gets married after all. And they are quite fabulous, if I do say so myself._

**_Burn them._ **

_Never! I'll get copies for you._

**_Burn. Them. All._ **

_Haha. Nope. I'll treasure these forever._

**_Fine. But, just know, I'll treasure these pictures you let me take of you after the wedding on my phone. You look good in purple and lace._ **

_Oh. My. Gosh! You wouldn't!_

**_I'll delete them when you destroy those pictures._ **

_You're an evil man, Mr. Clegane._

**_I just know how to play dirty, Mrs. Clegane. From what I recall, you enjoyed that._ **


	2. Chapter 2

"This is my favorite." Sansa said, leaning over the little table outside the coffee shop they'd met at. Sandor looked up from the pictures he was currently shuffling through and met her amused gaze. A small smile was tugging the corner of her mouth, making him want to kiss it away. He always wanted to kiss her, though.

Looking back at the picture, Sandor snorted a laugh. It was of the two of them in the wedding chapel. Sansa had both her hands thrown in the air, laughing, a champagne bottle in one hand and her fake flowers in the other. Her vail, the one the wedding chapel supplied to make her tiny little blue mini dress look more appropriate for a wedding, was askew on her head. Sandor was next to her, an arm around her waist and looking down at her while he did a fist pump. In the background Brienne was leaned against a wall, mid eye roll, while Tormund was leaned into her with a wide grin on his face. Arya and Gendry were making out in one of the folding chairs and Thoros and Beric were giving each other a high five. The obese man dressed as Elvis that had married them was smiling proudly off to the side. Sandor had to admit, it was a pretty epic fucking picture.

"Frame it." he pulled it out of the pile and handed it to her. "It's the only one you're allowed to keep."

Sansa mocked pouted, but took the picture from him and sat it next to her purse on the table.

"Which one are you going to keep and frame, then?" she asked, leaning over once more to look at the pictures as he started going through them again. Sandor gave her a look with a brow raised, but in truth he already knew which picture he was going to keep. Not that he was going to tell her, or anyone, that. It was just the two of them. No one in the background or off to the sides. Just him and her, standing outside of the chapel, the lights of Vegas in the background. He was holding her bridal style and she had both arms wrapped around his neck, looking up at him with the open adoration only found in drunk people. With his head cocked to the side and looking down at her, only the good side of his face on display, he was looking at her in much the same way.

Since they'd come back from Vegas three weeks ago, the two of them had met up every weekend and occasionally during the week if their schedules permitted. Twenty one days. Sandor wondered if you could fall for someone in twenty one days, because he was pretty sure that he was well on his way to falling for his surprise little wife.

Sansa had already set up everything for the annulment with her family lawyer, Mr. Cassel. They'd both signed the needed paperwork and submitted it, but there was a thirty day waiting period before the court date when it would be finalized. No one knew of their marriage, other than those that had been there and Mr. Cassel. Sansa couldn't bring herself to tell her parents or other siblings and Sandor had no one to tell, other than Bronn. And he did tell Bronn. They owned the construction business together and Sandor didn't like keeping secrets from his best friend and business partner. Sansa had given her consent.

It didn't bother Sandor. He still wasn't ready to be married and he got the feeling neither was Sansa. Sure, she was a hopeless romantic and had dreams of happily ever after, _eventually_. Right now, though, it didn't seem all that important. They were good together, he knew that. They clicked in a way he never had with a woman. Their chemistry and connection was almost immediate. He didn't feel like a big blundering fool when he was around her.

Sansa made him feel like a man worth being desired. Sandor had never had that before.

"Can I keep one of the ones from my phone?" he asked, slipping his picture from the pile and into his lap. "Maybe the one of you on the bed. You know, the one where you're on your hands and..."

"Stop it." she giggled, covering her cheeks. "I still can't believe I let you take those. And, no! You're not allowed to keep any."

"Better than any of this bullshit." he handed her the pictures back. "And I didn't have to pay for them."

"I still wish you'd let me take the rings back." she sighed. "You spent so much money that night. I'd like to get some of it back for you."

Sandor glanced down at her left hand. It was ring free, but the ring he'd bought her on their wedding night sat on her right middle finger. It had every day since they'd come back. Sandor had moved his from his left hand to his right to avoid too many questions. For some fucked up reason or another, it felt wrong to not wear it at all.

"Fuck the money. It doesn't matter." he shrugged. "Like I've said, keep it as a reminder."

Sansa's face went soft as she looked at him with a small smile. "I don't need the ring to remember you, Sandor."

He had actually meant to remind her to be careful the next time she was in Vegas, but it shifted something in his stomach to hear her say that. They hadn't explicitly said anything about what they were doing, or what was going to happen between them once the annulment was done. Sandor hadn't taken her on an actual date, yet. He was wanting to do that after all this shit was behind them. A clean slate. He wanted to keep going on dates with her and keep seeing her like this, casually without any pressure. And he wanted her again. Damn, but did he want her again.

That night had slowly come back to him, things not so vague and fuzzy anymore. It helped to have pictures from everyone's phones and to have Brienne and Beric fill in the holes. Sex with her that night had been wild and dirty and a little sloppy. Drunk people sex, to a T. It'd been fun, so damn fun, but he wanted to do it again and this time actually focus on what he was doing. To make it bone meltingly good for her. He wanted those blue eyes of her clear and unclouded, full and completely aware of who was taking her.

"Keep it anyway."

"Okay." she smiled sweetly before shoving the pictures back into the envelope they'd come in. "So, nine more days."

"Yeah." he scratched at his beard. "So you can cut it with all the 'honey do' shit you send me."

"What?" she laughed. "A good and decent husband should change the oil on his wife's car when it needs it. And a wife asking her husband to fix the garbage disposal isn't out of the norm." she teased.

"And I changed the bloody oil and cut my knuckles fixing the damned disposal." he leaned his elbows on the table and drew closer to her. "But I still don't get a hot, home cooked meal waiting for me when I get home from work."

Sansa threw her head back and laughed. "Does the takeout not count?" she giggled again. "Because if not, you picked the wrong wife."

"Careful." he smirked at her. "You're the one who proposed to me, remember?"

With a groan, Sansa looked up at the sky. "You're never going to let me live that own, are you?"

"Not a fucking chance." he chuckled.

"Fine." she said on a sigh, looking back at him. "Let's get down to business, alright?"

"Changing the subject, are we?" he sat back in his chair.

"Yes. We are." she raised her brow at him imperiously. "Now, our court hearing has been set for ten in the morning. Can you get off work for that?"

"I'm the boss, Little Bird." he cocked his head to the side. "I do what I want."

"Right." she huffed. "Sure. So, you can be there. And I'll be there. Jory said he would be there as well. It shouldn't take that long since neither of us are contesting anything. We'll probably be waiting to see the judge longer than we actually see him."

"Fine by me."

"I figured you'd appreciate that." she smiled at him. "And then afterwards..."

When she trailed off and looked at him curiously, Sandor sat forward in his chair once again.

"And afterwards?" he prompted.

"I don't know." she shrugged. "I'm not sure."

Sandor nodded, trying to gauge her. He figured he had nothing to lose, though. "You like steak?"

Her brows pulled together in confusion for a second. "Yes."

"Good." he gave a sharp nod. "Ever ate at Ye Olde Lamplighter?"

Her confusion seemed to clear and she blushed a little. "No. I haven't."

"They have a damn good steak. It's nothing fancy, just a pub, but the food and drinks are good."

"I don't need fancy, Sandor." she reached across the table and put a hand over the top of his. With very little hesitation, Sandor flipped his hand over and gripped hers.

"That's damn good." he smirked. "I'm not a fancy man."

"Listen, Sandor." she looked down at their hands together and Sandor followed with his eyes. His hand was huge compared to hers, dark where hers was pale. Rough where hers was soft. The sharp contrast made for an unusually appealing visual. "I know this, _us_ , happened unexpectedly. And I know we're getting an annulment in just a short time, and that's pretty much like breaking up. But I was hoping, and I'd really like it, if we could use that as a starting point instead of an ending." she looked back up at him with wide, hopeful eyes. "Because I don't want to stop seeing you."

"It's backwards, I get that." he tugged her hand a little closer to him and rubbed the ring he bought her between his fingers. "I've always done things differently than most." with his free hand, Sandor reached across the table and took hold of her chin gently and met her gaze. "Fuck society and it's expectations and standards. I want to keep seeing you, too."

Sansa stared at him for a beat, her mouth hanging open slightly before she closed it and lifted her chin.

"I want to kiss you." she informed him. "Is that okay?"

"Fuck yes." he said immediately, letting go of her hand as she shoved her chair back and stood. He scooted his own back and was fixing to stand as well when she stopped in front of him with her hands on his shoulders.

She didn't linger or hesitate. She simply bent forward and kissed him. Like he'd been wanting to do for the past three fucking weeks. Surging forward to the edge of his seat, he wrapped an arm around her waist and grabbed the back of her head with the other. Sansa urged his mouth to open and he growled lowly when her tongue slid into his mouth to stroke his. When she sucked on his tongue before nipping his bottom lip, Sandor dropped his hand down to her ass and gave it a squeeze before urging her into his lap. She came without question and without breaking their kiss. With her weight on him, her breasts pushed against his chest and her fingers in his hair, Sandor could give fuck all about anything else but getting her even closer. Preferably without these clothes between them.

"Excuse me." a voice nearby shouted and Sansa jerked her head away from his. Sandor ignored the voice and dropped his mouth to her now exposed throat as she looked off to the side.

"You two need to tone it down or leave." the man said and Sandor finally pulled his lips from Sansa's skin and looked over to see a waiter standing there with his hands on his hips. Everyone around them was staring. Not that he could blame them with how Sansa was straddling his lap in the middle of the outdoor seating area.

"I'm so sorry." Sansa scrambled from his lap and Sandor dropped his hands there once she was up to obscure his erection. And the now crumbled picture he'd dropped there earlier.

"We're newlyweds." Sandor argued. "Can't we get a fucking break?"

"In the privacy of your own home, you can." the waiter thrust the ticket at him and started to leave.

"You're right, of course." Sansa took the ticket and handed it and some cash to the waiter. "We're so sorry. Keep the change, please."

Sandor didn't really care, so he stood up and used the distraction to fold his picture and put it in his back pocket before grabbing his phone.

"Well, that was embarrassing." Sansa mumbled as he led her down the sidewalk.

"Fuck them." Sandor shrugged. "They all watch far raunchier shit on cable."

"You're probably right." she stepped closer to him and wrapped her arm around one of his. "So, I was thinking I'd like to maybe heed that waiters advice. If you want to, of course."

"What?" he looked down at her in question. She bit her bottom lip and blushed brightly.

"About the privacy of one of our homes."

Sandor almost tripped but stopped walking before he did. "I'm going to need you to be far more specific than that, Sansa. Because I'm hanging on by a thread here with my want to fuck you again."

Breath catching in her throat, Sansa licked her lips and nodded her head a little frantically. "Yes. Yes, please."

His place was closer. Just up a few blocks and over one. Clasping her hand in his, Sandor drug her over to where his motorcycle was parked along the street an thrust his helmet at her.

"What about you?" Sansa asked, pulling her purse across her body before taking the helmet.

"I've just got the one." he sat down on the bike and kicked the kick stand up. "Your heads a lot prettier than mine. Let's keep it that way."

Sansa laughed as she adjusted the strap of the helmet to fit her before throwing her leg over the bike behind him. Sandor started the engine while she situated herself behind him, scooting as close as she could and wrapping her arms around his waist.

"Ready?" he called over the engine noise.

"So ready." she breathed against his shoulder.

Conscious of the traffic and his cargo, Sandor did his best not to gun it or speed too badly. Sansa made things a bit more difficult. As he drove, her hands slowly worked up under his tee shirt, fingers grazing his abdomen. It caused his stomach to tense. He could feel her hot breath soaking into his shirt as she breathed into his shoulder, her hands wondering higher and then lower, touching and feeling every inch of his torso that she could reach. When she used only her nails and scratched gently down from his sternum to the waistband of his jeans, Sandor took the last turn almost too sharply and she stopped her perusal of his skin to hold on tightly again.

Turning the bike into the drive of his tiny little house, Sandor cut the engine. Sansa took the helmet off and handed it to him over his shoulder. He dropped it onto the ground next to the bike and caught her wrist when she got off and jerked her around, taking her mouth again as she scrambled to get on in front of him, this time facing him. She kept both legs to one side, but that didn't matter. Sandor ran his hands all over her, rucking her shirt up to touch her skin, fisting her hair in his hand, grabbing her thigh, her ass. Sansa laughed into his mouth at his eagerness and Sandor nipped her bottom lip in retaliation.

"You're a fucking tease." he growled at her before kissing her again. Sansa hummed, whether in agreement or not he really didn't fucking care.

When someone shouted, "Clegane!" Sandor groaned loudly in annoyance and turned towards his neighbors house, still holding Sansa close to him.

"The fuck do you want, Beric?" Sandor snapped. Beric living next door had never bothered him much before. They both kept to themselves. It made things nice for work. They carpooled occasionally and saved on gas. Right now, Sandor really wished the motherfucker lived five states over.

Beric gave them a smirk and made no move to leave the chair he was sitting in on his front porch. "The old lady across the street is like to call the cops if you keep that up." he informed them. "Might want to move that inside."

"Fucking hells." Sandor grumbled under his breath, letting Sansa up when she pulled away from him. Was the entire town trying to cockblock him? Could Beric not keep his mouth shut right now, like he had back in Vegas when they decided to get fucking married?

"Come on." Sansa tugged on his hand and Sandor followed her.

"Sorry about that, Beric." Sansa said over her shoulder as she followed Sandor towards his front door. "It was nice to see you again!"

"You too, sweetheart." Beric grinned. "Have fun and be safe." With the door unlocked, Sandor motioned for Sansa to go in ahead of him, then flipped Beric off before he followed her.

"This is nice." Sansa said, looking around his small living room. It wasn't horrible, he'd give her that. A lot nicer than some of the hovels he'd lived in before. It was in a relatively decent part of town. A little old house that he'd done a lot of work on when he bought it a few years back. It was painfully obvious a man lived there alone, though. He had a sofa and a recliner, both well used, and a brand new 60inch TV. There was no decorations or pictures on the walls. Nothing to make it overly homey.

"Want to see the bedroom?" he asked, not even caring that it was probably the lamest thing he'd ever said before in his life. Sansa laughed lightly at it, removing her purse and setting it in the recliner before facing him.

"I'd love to see the bedroom." Grabbing her hand, Sandor led her down the small hall to the single bedroom. Like the living room, it was small and sparse. A bed, dresser, and a nightstand. His bed, an oversized king, took up the majority of the room, but he was a big man and needed a big bed. He hadn't made the bed that morning and there was dirty clothes on the floor where he'd tossed them towards the hamper and missed.

"Do you think someone will knock on your window and stop us again?" Sansa asked, sitting at the foot of his bed and looking at him with a smile.

"If they do they'll be in for a show." he kicked his boots off and moved towards her. "Because I don't plan on stopping again."

"Mm." Sansa kicked off the little white sneakers she'd been wearing and spread her legs when he reached her, allowing him to step between them. With the height of the bed, she was just under his chin and Sandor bent forward to kiss her lips once. He stood back up straight and pulled his shirt off over his head, throwing it off to the side. Sansa drew in a sharp breath, her hands immediately on his skin. His muscles tensed on their own and then he grunted a little in pleasure when she kissed his left pec, right over the snarling hounds head that her cousin Jon had given him to cover up Sansa's name.

"Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?" she asked on a whisper, looking up at him while she ran her fingers down the ridges of his stomach.

"What?" he asked hoarsely.

"Making such a big, strong guy like you tremble like this." she ran the flats of both palms up his stomach, fingers catching on his chest hair.

"I'm not a physically strong girl." she went on. "But having this effect on you makes me feel strong. It makes me feel powerful." she looked up at him again, a flush high on her cheeks and her pupils blown.

"I've never felt this way before." her fingers moved back to the button of his jeans and she started undoing them. "It turns me on so much to know I'm turning you on."

Sandor felt a hot rush of something go through him at her words and he opened his mouth to say something when she got his pants undone and reached inside to touch him. His breath and his voice caught in his throat on a strangled moan.

"You feel better than I remembered." she whispered, more to herself than him, and then something seemed to snap in her. She shoved frantically at his jeans and underwear until they were down around his ankles and then she was pushing him to step back as she slid off the edge of the bed and went to her knees.

"Gods." Sandor rasped, hands immediately gathering up her hair as she took him into her mouth. There was no teasing, no toying with him. She took as much of him as she could, devouring him and threatening to bring him to his knees.

"Shit, Sansa." he moaned, tightening his hold on her hair to slow her down a little. "Slow down, girl. Not so fast."

She made a noise around him, her movements slowing as she looked up at him. Then her eyes moved down to his chest and torso, her free hand coming up to touch him. Sandor switched her hair to one hand, covering hers on his sternum. Letting his head fall back, Sandor closed his eyes and tried to control himself. Never once, not a single fucking time, had anyone ever had this effect on him. No one had ever seemed to desire him, to want him, the way Sansa did. It was a heady rush and he understood completely what she was saying earlier.

"Up." he tugged on her hand, urging her to stop. "Come here."

With one last slow suck, Sansa pulled away from his cock and slowly stood up, eyes on his the entire time. Her lips were swollen and glistening, redder than normal. Sandor took her mouth again, wrapping an arm under her ass and lifting her up, taking the step needed to lay her on the bed. After kicking his pants and underwear off, he bent down and pulled his socks off before crawling up over her, pulling her shirt up and off as he went.

"You sure about no more pictures?" he asked in a rough voice, rubbing his hands across the pale white expanse of her chest and belly. He grinned a little when her stomach muscles pulled tight as he traced her belly button.

"Shut up, Sandor." she playfully smacked his shoulder. "No more pictures for you."

"Fine." he conceded. "I guess the real thing will have to do."

"I guess so." she rolled her eyes with a laugh and Sandor cut it off when he leaned forward to kiss just above her navel. She smelled like heaven. Exactly like one would think a girl that looked like her would smell. Like mint and citrus.

As his mouth moved down, he let his hands travel upwards, first over the satiny cups of her bra, then under. She moaned softly, chest lifting upwards into his hands when he covered both her breasts. Gently rubbing the soft mounds, he nipped the skin just above the snap of her jeans.

"Sandor, please." Sansa begged, lifting her hips anxiously.

"Such a demanding wife I have." he teased, but sat back and quickly undid her jeans, helping her as she lifted and shimmied her hips until they were off and Sandor was tossing them and the tiny scrap of fabric she called panties off the side of the bed. Breathing hard, flushed, and a little shaky, Sansa sat upright and jerked her bra off, flinging it away. She said nothing, no more teasing, as she laid back down, watching him with parted lips and heavy eyes.

Starting at her neck, Sandor took time to find all the places that made her moan and shiver. When he reached her breasts, he drew a nipple into his mouth at the same time he dipped a hand down between her thighs. Her cunt was warm and waiting, the close cropped red curls wet and springy beneath his fingers. Keeping his pressure light, he explored her folds, gently opening her up to him. Sansa was starting to whimper a little with each exhale. Finding her opening, drenched with readiness, Sandor swirled his finger around it a few times, moving to the opposite breast to suck her nipple. As he drew on it deeply, he pushed his finger inside of her.

"Oh." she said long and low, hips arching to take his finger deeper. " _Oh_."

Scraping his beard across her sensitive skin, he sucked hard on the side of her breast, leaving a mark and pushing a second finger into her. Sansa sucked in a deep breath and seemed to be holding it as he pumped his fingers inside of her, never really pulling out, crooking them and searching until he found a spot that had her crying out and tightening around him. Staying there, he quickly kissed down her trembling belly and buried his face into the sweetness above his fingers. With her fingers locked tight into his hair, Sandor lifted one of her legs over his shoulder and ate at her until she was shaking with tension. When it finally broke, dampening his fingers and his face even more, Sandor moaned right along with her.

"Stop, stop." she nearly sobbed, pushing his head away from her, her thighs still trembling. Sandor backed off, kissing her knee before moving up to lay beside her.

"Man." she took a deep breath. "That was so much better sober."

With a snort, Sandor lay back as she came over the top of him. She smiled wickedly at him as she tossed one of those long legs over his thighs and straddled him. Still watching his face, she took his cock in hand and began stroking him.

"Is like this okay?" she asked.

"Any fucking way you want it." he assured her roughly. Nodding, Sansa licked her lips and looked down at him as she positioned herself on top of him. Gripping her thighs, Sandor let his eyes roll shut as she slowly took him inside of her, thankful that she'd been insistent on having that bloodwork done. It assured them that they were safe together.

"I like you like this." she whispered unsteadily as she began to move, slowly at first, hands running up and down his body. "I like seeing you when we're together like this."

Sandor understood what she meant. Watching her ride him was nearly as hot as the feeling of her cunt wrapped around him. Nearly.

Letting his hands roam over her body as they wished, he let his eyes travel over her body. How her neck arched so elegantly. How her teeth caught and held her bottom lip. Her breasts as they swayed and bounced. Her stomach as it tensed and hollowed out with her movements. How he looked moving in and out of her.

"Fuck." he groaned, looking away before it undid him. Instead, he moved his thumb between them, rubbing over her distended little clitoris as she rode him harder. He was close, sweat beading up on his forehead, but he wanted her there with him. Keeping his thumb in place, he sat up and took a nipple into his mouth. Sucking and rolling it with his tongue, he grinned when he felt her arms wrap around his shoulders and hold him tighter.

"Oh, Gods." she whined. "There, there, _there_." she panted, begging, moving against him desperately. She almost sounded shocked when she peaked, tightening her entire body around him like a snake. Before she'd completely come down, Sandor flipped them over and rose up on his knees. Grabbing her hips, he drove into her again and again. The sound of their skin coming together, of her gasps and moans, the way her body looked under him, and Sandor lost it all. Hot pleasure raced down his spine and pooled in his stomach, breaking out with a rush as his whole body lit up with the feeling. He bowed his head to her chest, damn near letting out a roar as he came.

"Oh my." Sansa whispered, her body still trembling a little under him as he let himself fall to her side. Sandor grunted in agreement, wondering idly if Beric was still outside and if he'd heard them. Not that he really gave a shit.

"And they say married sex is boring." Sansa said on a sigh, rolling over and wrapping herself around him.

"That was fairly straightforward fucking, Sansa." he looked down at her little pout. "Fucking hot and damned good, but nothing too kinky."

"You want kinky sex?" she asked with a blush and a raised brow.

"I want nine more days of fucking my wife." he rolled her onto her back and leaned over her, kissing her throat. "And then I want to keep fucking you, Sansa. We can find each others kinks as we go."

"I like the sound of that." she ran her fingers through his hair before pulling him back to her mouth. "For future reference, though, sharing is definitely not one of my kinks."

Sandor grunted in acknowledgement. "Just you and me, Little Bird." he kissed her again. "Just you and me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no clue about the annulment laws in California or Nevada. I'm going off what I know of the laws where I'm from so sorry if it's wrong. This is just fiction after all, not a 'how to get an annulment guide'. I hope you enjoyed!!


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